Once Upon a Scandal (18 page)
But Lucas? What if she shared that massive bed with her husband?
Warmth glowed deep inside her, and she wondered when she had ceased to fear his touch. She almost looked forward to their time together each night, when he would hold her and kiss her, never pushing her farther than she was willing to go, yet coaxing her to the limits of her desire.
A clock chimed softly on a table, snapping her back to the present. She had justice to mete out. Of course, Lucas would challenge her on
that
. He would accuse her of being a petty thief.
that
. He would accuse her of being a petty thief.
She squared her drooping shoulders. Fie on him. He didn’t understand her need to protect Grandpapa. Now, where did Lord Gerald Mannering keep his precious gems?
She tiptoed into the dressing room and glanced around. The place was tidy, the mark of a diligent valet. No jewel case had been left conveniently on the dressing table or chest of drawers or clothes press. She squandered five minutes on an efficient search of the usual hiding places, but came up empty-handed. There wasn’t so much as a ha’penny to steal.
Drat. Every moment she tarried here increased the risk of discovery. The thought raised a prickling of fear, a fear she hadn’t known in previous burglaries. It wasn’t that she expected Lord Gerald to appear with a pistol. She was on edge because Lucas would be looking for her.
But she had time yet. A thin margin of time before he made his way through the crush of people, fetched her that punch, and then guessed where she’d disappeared to. She
intended to be long gone from here by then, and back downstairs at the party.
intended to be long gone from here by then, and back downstairs at the party.
Emma forced her mind back to the burglary. Gentlemen most often kept their jewels in a repository in their dressing room. But Lord Gerald might have a safe in his bedchamber.
She hastened out and peeked behind the gilt-framed paintings, wrinkling her nose at one of a naked entwined couple. How tasteless. It was worse than the lewd screen in the corner. Thinking of which, she started across the crimson rug to check behind the screen.
The quiet click of the doorlatch sounded like thunder. She spun around, caught in the center of the room. The gilded white door framed the tall, dark shape of a man. A man whose chilly gaze froze the breath in her lungs.
“My dear wife,” Lucas said, raising a glass to her, “would you care for a drink?”
L
ucas had the grim satisfaction of seeing Emma turn pale. The loss of color in her cheeks heightened the illusion of an alabaster statue. But no stone goddess had ever had such luxuriant silvery-blond hair or a heaving bosom designed to catch a man’s eye. No stone goddess had Emma’s talent for making a fool of him, either.
ucas had the grim satisfaction of seeing Emma turn pale. The loss of color in her cheeks heightened the illusion of an alabaster statue. But no stone goddess had ever had such luxuriant silvery-blond hair or a heaving bosom designed to catch a man’s eye. No stone goddess had Emma’s talent for making a fool of him, either.
Leashing his wrath, he strolled toward her. “I’d a suspicion I might find you here,” he said. “Next time you want to get rid of me, try a better excuse than sending me for a glass of rum punch.”
Pink color rushed back into her face. She thrust out her lower lip in a sulky pout. “Next time, try staying out of my affairs.”
“Affairs?” He gave a contemptuous laugh. “I suppose you’re going to pretend you’re here because you’ve an assignation with Mannering.”
“And if I do?”
“I’d say you were lying again. And then I’d order you to get into that bed so I could lay claim to you first.” He burned to do just that, to lift her skirts and teach her to cease tormenting him. He mockingly indicated the drink in his hand. “I believe this is yours, madam.”
“Thank you, my lord.” She took the glass from him. And promptly dashed the contents in his face.
He leapt back. Too late. The sticky liquid dripped down
his cheeks and nose and drenched his clothing, soaking through his coat and shirt and cravat. He blinked his stinging eyes. “What the devil—”
his cheeks and nose and drenched his clothing, soaking through his coat and shirt and cravat. He blinked his stinging eyes. “What the devil—”
He whipped out his handkerchief and mopped the mess from his face. His angry gaze flicked to Emma. She held the empty glass in one hand and covered her mouth with the other. Impishness danced in her blue eyes.
She was laughing. The shameless chit was
laughing.
laughing.
“I’m so sorry,” she said demurely. “I simply don’t know what came over me.”
“You … don’t … know.” Lucas was so furious he nearly stumbled over his words. He wanted to turn her over his knee, civilized behavior be damned. Then, in the midst of his rage, a germ of humor infected him. How ridiculous of them to be quarreling instead of kissing.
He took a step toward her. “I know what came over you. The desire to distract me.”
She took a step backward. “Distract you? What rubbish.”
“You don’t want me to guess you’re here to rob Mannering.”
“I beg your pardon? I threw the drink because you spoke crudely to me.”
“No.” He advanced slowly, forcing her to retreat. “There’s more to it than that.”
“Of course there is. I also wished to cover the stench of that woman’s perfume.”
“Don’t bring her into this. You threw the drink because there’s a passionate woman hiding inside you. A woman who wants to learn how to make love as well as she can plot a burglary.”
Emma bumped into an elephant’s foot stool, then regained her balance. “Ha! I wanted to teach
you
not to treat me like your possession.”
you
not to treat me like your possession.”
“On the contrary, I’ve yet to possess you.” He backed her into an ebony screen exhibiting a parade of naked Egyptian dancers. He had no interest in the vulgar display, not when he could plant his hands on Emma’s bare shoulders
and draw her against him. “It’s past time to rectify that oversight, hmm?” he said silkily.
and draw her against him. “It’s past time to rectify that oversight, hmm?” he said silkily.
She tipped back her head. Wariness glinted in her eyes, yet there was a trace of seductiveness, too, in the way she lowered her lashes a bit. She had the look of a woman who wanted to be kissed.
Emma desired him. But she was afraid to admit it.
He told himself to feel triumph, but tenderness stole over him instead. She had haunted his heart for so long, and now he was haunting hers. He was shaken by the fierce longing to make her love him.
Fool
. He could never trust her. She was a liar, a thief. She cared nothing for him. She wanted to divorce him so she could marry someone else.
. He could never trust her. She was a liar, a thief. She cared nothing for him. She wanted to divorce him so she could marry someone else.
Yet none of that seemed important now. They were husband and wife, bound by sacred vows and by a devil’s bargain. He bent his head to her, and her lips parted. A breath away, he paused to savor the moment of her surrender. He fancied he could hear their hearts beating in unison.
In the next instant, he realized it was the tapping of footsteps. A woman’s throaty laugh sounded out in the corridor, followed by a man’s deep voice.
Acting on instinct, he thrust Emma behind the screen and then followed her, urging her to her knees so she could not be seen. He dropped down behind her, hugging her close in the tight corner space. And not an instant too soon.
On a rattling of the latch, the door opened, then shut. The scuffling of feet indicated that more than one person had entered. There came the unmistakable smacking of lips and a woman’s murmur of pleasure.
“Mmmm. Delicious. I do so love the taste of a man.”
Her partner loosed a growl. “What luscious breasts you have, my pet. Give me a bite.”
“You’re an impatient one, my lord,” she said on a breathy laugh. “I don’t believe I’ve ever made love to a man no more than five minutes after our first meeting.”
“I wish to give you another strange and wonderful experience to add to your collection.”
Clothing rustled, interspersed with giggles and more noisy kisses.
Lucas clenched his teeth. Hell.
Bloody hell
. He recognized those voices. They belonged to Mrs. Boswell and Lord Gerald Mannering.
Bloody hell
. He recognized those voices. They belonged to Mrs. Boswell and Lord Gerald Mannering.
Lucas crouched behind Emma, holding her wedged between his thighs. His arm beneath her breasts, he felt the drumming of her heart. He detested being a voyeur, and he knew Emma must be mortified. Yet his body responded to her nearness with throbbing intensity.
They could yet make their presence known, claim to have borrowed the bedroom for their own tryst, and apologize for the intrusion. But then Mannering might guess the truth—that Emma had come to steal from him.
Had she already done so? Did his wife have five hundred pounds’ worth of jewels secreted in a hidden pocket?
Lucas smoothed his hands down the back of her gown, along the slim curve of her waist, and over the flare of her hips. She shuddered out a breath and turned her head back to look up at him with wide, inquiring eyes. A pretty flush tinted her cheeks.
He lifted his finger to his lips to indicate the need to remain quiet. She bit her lip and nodded. At least she had the sense to realize the danger of her situation. And it only went to prove her guilt, Lucas sternly reminded himself. Damn her willfulness to perdition.
If Emma were caught with Mannering’s jewels in her possession, Lucas would be forced to buy Mannering’s silence. But what if the devil took it into his mind to win acclaim for capturing the Bond Street Burglar? What if Mannering had Emma arrested? Lucas dared not take the chance.
He could hear Emma’s soft breathing over the grunts and giggles coming from beyond the screen. Very slowly, she placed the empty glass on the floor, beside a ball of dust where the upstairs maid had skimped on her cleaning. The smell of rum punch pervaded the air, but Lucas hoped Mannering was too preoccupied to notice.
The bedropes groaned—followed by a human groan. “So you like to be on top, do you, minx?”
“Yes, and I see you’ve risen to the occasion quite admirably,” Mrs. Boswell said. “Perhaps a rubdown is in order. To prepare my stallion for mounting.”
The bed squeaked again, then Mannering cried out, “Oh, yes, my pet. Yes!”
The sounds of their lovemaking touched only the edge of Lucas’s attention. He was keenly aware of Emma, kneeling in front of him with her fists resting on her thighs and her head bowed. He wondered what she was thinking as she listened to the pantings and moans of the bedroom’s other occupants.
His own thoughts were decidedly carnal. The blue silk of her gown enhanced the beauty of her womanly form. He was tempted to continue his search, to seek out jewels more precious than stolen booty. And why shouldn’t he? She was his wife.
With a few flicks of his fingers, he undid the buttons at the back of her dress. He pushed down the short, puffy sleeves along with her bodice. She gave a little gasp and flinched. Yet she made no move to stop him as he loosened her corset and then slid his hands inside, finding the sweet, silken roundness of her bosom.
Her back arched against his chest, offering him two lush handfuls. He stroked the pearly tips with his thumbs. Instead of resisting him, she turned her head to the side, her cheek nuzzling against his dampened shirt like a kitten begging to be petted. God. God! Still cradling her warm flesh, Lucas bent down and captured her lips, taking possession of her mouth in a long, deep kiss.
The blood burned through his veins. He could not remember when his urge to mount a woman had been stronger. He wanted to strip off Emma’s clothing, to arouse her to mindless yearning, to become one with her at last. But not now. Not here.
Reluctantly he broke the kiss, letting his hands rest lightly around her breasts as he struggled to master himself. What
a damnable fix. Even if Emma were willing, he could not risk their being overheard. They must wait out the conclusion of this awkward predicament.
a damnable fix. Even if Emma were willing, he could not risk their being overheard. They must wait out the conclusion of this awkward predicament.
A rhythmic squeaking came from the bed. “Faster, my prize mare, faster,” Mannering gasped out.
“Slower,” Mrs. Boswell panted. “Let us not gallop to the finish—let us savor the ride.”
“A canter, then. Tallyho!”
Emma made an almost inaudible sound, and Lucas looked down to see her face still turned toward him. Her blush had deepened to a rosy hue, and she pressed her fist to her mouth. Her gaze touched his, skittered away, then returned. In the dimness behind the screen, her eyes sparkled. To his amazement, he felt her body shake with near-hysterical mirth. The absurdity of the situation struck him, too, and he was tempted to throw back his head and howl with laughter.
Lucas could think of only one distraction before they gave away their presence. He kissed her again.
The moment his mouth touched hers, the world fell away. It was only the two of them, bound together in tender torment. Her hand stole up to stroke his jaw, and that gentle touch added fuel to the furnace inside him. He should not want Emma with such keen desperation. But he did. God, he did.
Her warm bottom was snuggled into his groin. The flimsy layers of gown and petticoat could not prevent him from appreciating her softness. Despite the risks, he had to touch her.
He tugged at her skirt, and she shifted slightly so the silk garment lifted. Reaching beneath her hem, he settled his hand on her slim, warm thigh, over the garter that secured her silk stocking. Her body went taut, and he brushed his lips and tongue across hers, blatantly using his expertise to keep her from crying out in fear.
He slid his hand higher … and higher. And this time, he wasn’t looking for a hidden stash of pilfered stones. When at last he touched her intimately, her muscles quivered as if
she were on the verge of panic. Into her ear, he breathed, “Look at me.”
she were on the verge of panic. Into her ear, he breathed, “Look at me.”
Her eyes opened and she gazed warily up at him. He willed Emma to see that he was not the villain who had attacked her, that he was the man who would awaken her sensuality. A sensuality far deeper than the sexual lust being shared beyond the screen, where stirring moans and blissful sighs indicated the rise toward climax.
“Trust me,” he whispered.
Holding her gaze, Lucas found the parting in her underdrawers. So soft she was there. A lush tangle of curls. A moist feminine mystery. She clutched at him, and he kissed her again, to halt her descent into the terrors of memory. Ever so slowly she leaned her head back into the crook of his neck. With a sigh, she adjusted her position, allowing him deeper access.
A fierce exultation seized Lucas. At last … at last he could touch the heat of her. Nestled within her dewy folds lay her pearl, and when he caressed it, she squirmed against him in glorious abandon, the friction torturing the swollen rod inside his breeches.
But he cared not for his own gratification. His physical need was drowned by his turbulent desire to satisfy Emma. He craved nothing less than her full surrender.
Half turning to hide her face in his throat, she clung to his neck, clung with dainty fingers and sharp nails, heedless of his rum-dampened shirt. She pressed shamelessly into his hand, and he could feel her warm, panting breaths. At last a long, low sob escaped her, and a shudder coursed through her slim body. She convulsed around his fingers once … then again … and yet again before falling limp in his arms, her bare bosom rising and falling.
Lucas drew his hand from beneath her skirts. A foolish grin on his face, he tipped his head back. The black expanse of the screen stretched above him. He shouldn’t feel so damned good. His legs were numb and tingly from crouching so long, and Emma had consigned him to the fires of unrequited passion.
Only then did he notice the silence in the room.
“What the devil was that?” Mannering said.
“Mmmm?”
“A moan—or a sob. I say, there’s someone in here, spying on us.”
Lucas’s arms tensed around Emma. She drew her head up sharply as if coming back to an awareness of their surroundings. Christ. If they were caught hiding …
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